


Just Having You Around

by onesillygoose



Series: Betrayal is a Matter of Pespective [2]
Category: Professional Wrestling, WWE, World Wrestling Entertainment, wrestling - Fandom
Genre: Anal Fingering, Blowjobs, Caretaker Dean, Caretaking, Dry Humping, Infidelity, Kayfabe Compliant, M/M, Sex While Sick, Sick Seth, Sleepy Sex, Some domestic fluff, all is consensual, ambrollins - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-11
Updated: 2017-04-11
Packaged: 2018-10-17 12:58:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10594488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onesillygoose/pseuds/onesillygoose
Summary: Dean goes to visit Seth after the Raw and Smackdown following Wrestlemania. Seth is still sick and Dean is there to take care of him.(Technically a sequel to "The Only Thing That Matters")





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hadn't planned on writing a second part to "The Only Thing That Matters." Did it anyway. I meant to get this out last week when it was still relevant, but oh well. I'm going to try to get out another story this week after all is said and done with the Superstar Shakeup, but we'll see how that actually goes. 
> 
> Also, not totally sure this is explicit, but I wanted to be safe.
> 
> Enjoy!

Seth is in his kitchen preparing his lunch when he hears an obnoxiously loud knock on the door. He isn’t expecting company. In fact, he’s hardly even picked up his phone in the past forty eight hours. Since getting home from Raw two days ago he’s hardly done anything but sleep. He’s still fighting off the flu and his knee still throbs if he’s standing for too long. He wants to enjoy his last day off until he has to schlep himself back onto the road. He’s not in the mood in the slightest for a social call.

He opens the door to find Dean standing on his porch. He shouldn’t be surprised, really, but he is.

“How the hell do you know where my new house is?”

Dean raises an eyebrow and looks at Seth like a confused puppy.

“Roman, obviously. But I probably could've called your mom and asked her. Pretty sure she still likes me. Here, I brought you protein waffles from that place downtown you like.”

Seth takes the Styrofoam box as Dean pushes in past him. The last time he and Dean had been to eat at that restaurant was almost four years ago. Seth can’t believe he even remembered it. 

He finds Dean waiting for him in his kitchen and sets the to- go box on the table, picking up his mug of coffee instead.

“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be in Vegas with…,” he trails off as Dean turns to glare at him.

“She’s in Tampa with Nikki and Cena. Helping plan their wedding or some bullshit.”

Seth doesn’t know if that makes it better or worse that Dean’s here.

They haven’t talked hardly at all since they slept together. Dean texted him a congrats on Sunday after his match, and Seth responded in kind, but that’s been the extent of it. He knows he shouldn’t have expected anything different. Part of him knew better. But the other part of him had hoped that maybe things would slide into place again. Even if that’s never really been their style. They’ll always be polar opposites and yet always drawn to each other. “Wrestling soulmates”, Dean had once called them. Seth hates how right he was.

“So why are you _here_?” Seth repeats.

“I wanted to see you.”

Dean’s eyes are blazing as he meets Seth’s, and Seth does his best to swallow around a sputter.

“You come to remind me how stupid I was for taking that match?” Seth quips after taking a moment to recover.

“Nah. Already told you once. No sense in repeating myself. I did manage to catch your tag team match with Finn the other night. And I saw you limping. I should kick Vince and Steph’s ass for letting you go back out there while your knee is still fucked up.”

Seth would normally be indignant about Dean just showing up at his house out of the blue at ten in the morning with a lecture, if he hadn't come with waffles. And if Seth weren’t so lightheaded all of a sudden.

“Can take care of myself, Ambrose. Worry about your own matches, because I wasn’t going to say anything, but your match against Corbin last night was shit.”

He’s trying really, really hard not to collapse on the floor, gripping onto his coffee mug so hard his knuckles are white as he tries to focus on Ambrose’s face.

“Thanks for that. That is so sweet of you to… hey. You okay?”

It sounds like Dean might be talking to him, but he doesn’t know for sure. The room is suddenly spinning and Dean’s voice is drifting in and out.

“Seth? Seth! Hey! Can you hear me? What’s wrong? You hit your head or somethin’? Seth, what the fuck is going on?!”

Seth doesn’t remember passing out, but he’s awoken by Dean’s voice somewhere near his ear and his hand shaking Seth’s shoulder.

“Seth! Hey!”

“Can you not yell? Kinda got a headache.”

“What the fuck was that?! You just fucking fainted in your kitchen, man!” Dean’s voice was more commanding than asking.

“Sick.” Seth muttered.

“You’re sick? Why weren’t you in bed, dumbass?!”

Seth rolls his head back and forth on his pillow, trying to gain his bearings without opening his eyes. He knows he’s in his bed- probably carried here by Dean- and he’s pretty sure Dean is sitting on the bed beside him, but if he opens his eyes right now he might puke.

“Been sick. Don’t have time to fuck around with it anymore. Got shit to do.”

“Didn’t the trainers give you something? How long have you been sick?”

“Since before you fucked me in Orlando last week.” Seth knows his voice is getting weaker as he slips back toward sleep.

“You fucking idiot! You didn’t think to fucking tell me that?! You have a fever! Do you even have anything in your medicine cabinet?!”

He doesn’t get the chance to respond. The heavy pull of unconsciousness drags him back under.

The next time Seth gets woken up is in the middle of a very interesting dream. Seconds before he was going to get fucked by two Deans, and now he’s having some fruity sports drink poured into his unwilling mouth.

“Mmph.” Seth grumps, trying to push the hand away that’s forcing the lemon lime liquid into his mouth.

“Shut up and just drink it. They brought me one of each flavor and I thought you'd appreciate getting this one out of the way first. And after this you’re going to eat an entire can of soup even if I have to force it down your throat.”

That’s Dean’s voice. Dean’s voice telling him what he’s going to do. Like he cares. Like he wants to be doing this. Like he wants to be here. Like taking care of Seth is the only thing he's ever thought about doing. Dean’s scent of tobacco, sweat and cologne wrap comfortingly around him. Dean’s ever shaking hand pours more juice into his mouth.

“Didn’t have this shit in my fridge. Fucking hate this flavor.”

“You also didn’t have a single can of soup or a fever reducing medicine. Thankfully there’s grocery stores around here that deliver. Now finish drinking this shit so I can go get your soup off the stove.”

Seth fidgets and wriggles the entire time Dean helps him eat. He’s lucid enough now to know how weird this is. They’ve never done anything like this for each other. Sure, Dean has held his hair and rubbed his back as he spent nights bent over toilet bowls after celebrating a bit too hard. And he’s bandaged Dean’s knuckles after easily won bar fights in random towns more times than he could count. But this is something different. Something too close and too intimate. Seth has no idea what’s going on right now, but there’s also another part of him that absolutely loves it and would never even consider wanting this moment to come to an end.

Dean helps him eat the entire can of soup and half a sleeve of crackers before he’s full enough. The warmth spreads merrily inside his tummy, but on the outside he’s still cold. Shivering from the fever as he tries to pull the blankets tighter around himself. And his dick is still rock hard from his weird dream and Dean’s sudden caretaker role. Thankfully he's too sick to process his feelings about that right now.

Seth groans and whines as he turns himself onto his side and then tips himself over onto his stomach.

“Seth? What’s wrong? Are you okay? Does your back hurt or somethin’?”

Seth whimpers as he squirms against the mattress, writhing on his stomach as he grinds his hips down.

“Oh,” Dean chuckles. “I heard you moanin’ in your sleep, but I figured it was a nightmare. You wanna tell me about it?”

Maybe it’s a bad idea to confess to Dean what he’d been dreaming about. But he’s not really in his right mind right now to make a good argument with himself not to tell him.

“You. You were fucking me.”

Dean chuckles again.

“That all?”

“I was sucking you.”

Dean's dick suddenly finds this far more interesting and far less funny.

“Yeah? How’d that work?”

Seth rubs his face against his pillow as he struggles to catch his breath, hips still pressing into the mattress.

“Two of you.”

“Holy fuck. Really? That’s what you dream about? Jesus Christ, Rollins, I knew you were kinky, but this is somethin’ else. Goddamn, that’s fuckin’ hot. Maybe I should come around more often when you’re sick.”

“Dean!”

And Seth’s cry is so hurt and needy that Dean is nearly rock hard instantly.

“Alright, alright. Just lay still, now. I’ll take care of you.”

Dean places a hand gently on Seth’s back, curling it over his hip and tugging, urging Seth to roll over onto his stomach. He’s still feverish, and Dean shouldn’t have him totally exposed to the chill in the air, but it’ll be easier to do this with nothing getting tangled up.

He runs his hands down Seth’s body from chest to knees, touching as much skin as he can. Seth wiggles again.

“Shh, shh, shh. Just relax, babe. I got ya.”

Dean nuzzles against Seth’s lower stomach and the smattering of dark hair there. He can hear Seth inhale and whimper again. Usually the younger man is much more pushy, but Dean is chalking up his current docile demeanor to his fever.

“Maybe this’ll make you feel better.” Dean husks against the junction of Seth’s hip and thigh.

He takes Seth’s cock between his lips, the entirety of it fitting into his mouth without much trouble until Seth's cock bumps the back of his throat. Dean hasn’t done this in a while, but he’s always had a knack for it. And Seth is the perfect size. Not to mention Dean’s typical level of enthusiasm when he gets to fuck Seth.

His cheeks are hollowed as he sucks with fervor, tongue teasing Seth in all the ways that Dean remembers he likes. Seth is a whining mess, unable to hold still with Dean's wet and warm mouth around him, so Dean has to pin his hips. He’s not complaining. Seth has some of the most beautiful hips he’s ever had the fortune to see, and he's more than happy to grab on for the ride.

Seth’s cock is that much warmer against Dean’s tongue due to his overheated feverish skin, and when this is over, Dean will need to remind himself to check Seth’s temperature again. In the meantime, he can tell Seth is close, his thighs trembling with the tension in his muscles beneath Dean's palms. Dean himself is hard as stone, and he’s trying to keep his own hips from grinding into the mattress so that he doesn’t come in his jeans. The last thing he wants is to explain to Seth when he wakes up why he's without pants and had to use his washing machine.

There’s drool seeping from between Dean’s lips and down to the thatch of dark, coarse curls that surround Seth’s prick. Dean isn’t sure if Seth is aware of the sensation in his state. Dean himself is acutely aware of the aching in his jaw from keeping his mouth open so wide for the past several minutes and he needs to wrap this up. He decides to go for it, and use his secret weapon that he knows gets Seth off every fucking time without fail.

Dean carefully glides his teeth up Seth’s shaft, before sucking mercilessly on the tip of the head, rubbing his tongue against the slit incessantly. Seth comes almost instantly, and Dean swallows every drop. It feels warmer on his tongue than it should, and Dean knows that’s also because of the fever.

When he finishes licking up all traces of cum from Seth’s body, he looks up to find the smaller man asleep again. Dean wipes him down, redresses him with great difficulty, since Seth is a _very solid_ two hundred and seventeen pounds, and wakes him up enough to take a few pills that will reduce his fever and to chug half a bottle of water. When all is said and done, Dean’s dick is mostly soft and he decides to tough it out. Seth can return the favor another time. He watches tv on the bed while Seth sleeps curled up beside him.

Seth rouses several hours later, and the first things he notices are the hand that immediately plasters itself to his forehead and the rather large body taking up half of his bed. He’s feeling better, aside from the sensitivity and rawness of his dick.

“Think your fever’s gone. You should still go to the doctor, though, dumbass. If it’s been over a week then you need to get antibiotics. You’re a fucking thirty year old man and you still don’t know this shit?”

“You actually sucked my dick. That wasn’t a dream.” Seth says and he sounds so disbelieving.

“Yes, that really happened. Because you asked me to. You’re such a weirdo, you know that?”

“So, do I need to return the favor?”

Dean chuckles.

“Let’s just wait until you’re not sick.”

Seth considers it for a moment. Dean gets on his nerves, and Seth really doesn’t owe him anything, but he did do Seth a favor, and Seth doesn’t like feeling indebted in any way. And it's not like he really minds getting Dean off.

“Got a better idea.” Seth says mischievously.

The fiery look in Seth’s eyes doesn’t escape Dean’s attention, but he isn’t at all prepared when Seth leaps up and pushes him flat against the bed, straddling him and pinning his wrists above his head to the pillow.

“Don’t move,” comes out of Seth’s mouth, and he’s usually not the one giving commands in these types of situations, but Dean doesn't look too surprised.

His hands slide down Dean’s arms, glide over his shoulders, and come to rest on Dean’s chest. His pecs aren’t as big or as developed as they used to be, and not quite as developed as Seth’s, but he’s still much larger and plenty sturdy for Seth to hold onto.

Seth starts grinding his hips in a slow rhythm, his ass rolling right over Dean’s cock with every movement. He smirks when Dean inhales sharply and then lets out a drawn out moan.

“You might say no to me giving you a blow job right now, but you won’t say no to getting off.”

It’s only a few moments before Seth himself starts to get hard. The firmness of Dean’s belly and the friction from his pajama pants the perfect combination against his dick. Then there’s the fact that he can feel Dean’s bulge through the denim of his jeans and his own pajamas as it presses right up against his muscular backside.

“Jesus, Seth.” Dean moans.

Seth smirks again and speeds up. His skin feels flushed in an entirely different way than it had from the fever. His arrogance begins to slide away as he focuses on the fact that he’s now trying to get himself off in addition to Dean. It feels really fucking good, and he doesn’t even pause to chastise Dean for not listening when the larger man’s hands suddenly grip his hips _hard_.  

Dean is now thrusting up against Seth. Hitching up his hips every time Seth grinds his back. Dean is panting and sweating and cursing up a storm, and Seth is trying to ignore the lightheaded feeling from too much physical exertion so soon.

He’s riding Dean with everything he’s got now, and Dean is giving him just as good as he's getting.

“I’m close, Dean. Fuck.”

“Yeah, baby? Well, allow me to give you a hand again.”

He feels Dean’s hand slide from his hip, around his side to give his ass a good squeeze, and then that same hand is sliding in the back of Seth’s pants. Seth wants to ask what exactly he’s doing, but he can hardly breathe. He’s sweating so profusely that it’s making his hair stick annoyingly to his face.

Dean just rubs his bare ass for a few seconds until Seth finds his words.

“Dean, what-“

And then Dean is slipping one thick finger into the crease of Seth’s ass, toying at his hole for a handful of seconds before he slides the digit nearly all the way in. His fingers dry, and the stretch is a little rough, but it still feels so good.

“Dean!” Seth shouts with an arch of his back, shooting off hot and sticky cum to coat the inside of his pajama pants.

The sight alone of Seth getting off is enough to push Dean over, and he thrusts up against Seth once more as he comes inside of his own pants.

He’s so out of it that he has no idea when Seth collapsed onto his chest, but he opens his eyes to see a mop of messy black curls tucked under his chin. Seth is shivering as he clings to Dean’s t-shirt, and Dean doesn’t know if it’s the fever returning, or if Seth got off _that_ hard.

“Hey,” Dean croaks.

Seth tilts his head back the slightest bit, cheeks flushed and still catching his breath. Dean slides a finger under his chin and kisses him gently as he removes his finger from Seth’s used hole.

“You okay?"

Seth nods, a weak smile on his face.

"You’re a fuckin’ asshole, Rollins. I came in my fucking pants. You couldn’t let me get my pants off before you started this shit? Now I gotta wear your stupid hipster sweatpants with your wrestling school’s logo all over them.”

“Shut up, jerk. They’re just sweats, and it’s not like anyone is going to see you in them. But you’re welcome to sit in your jizz covered pants while I wash mine.”

“Fine. I’ll take your stupid sweats.”

Seth gives him a cocky smile as he gets up to change and pull out a clean pair of pants for Dean.

“Thought you said you didn’t want to do anything else while I was sick?” Seth teases as he throws the pants at Dean.

Dean gets up, clean sweats in hand, and stalks almost menacingly toward Seth, grabbing a handful of his still sweaty hair and kissing him sloppily and messily.

“Guess I don’t give a shit, after all.”

Seth laughs at that.

“You gonna make an appointment for the doctor this afternoon, or do I need to call Roman to come and kick your ass?”

Seth shrugs.

“I think the fever’s gone. And it’s been mostly congestion anyway. I should be fine now.”

“Whatever.” Dean says grumpily and strips off his sweat soaked t-shirt.

“Hey,” Seth coos and saunters over to him, hands rubbing teasingly against his chest and playing with Dean’s chest hair. “You wanna take a shower?”

“Sure,” Dean shrugs, “but not with you. Don’t need your germs infecting me any more than they already have.” He pushes Seth off playfully and heads to the bathroom, laughing hysterically.

“Fuck you, Ambrose!”

“You wish, baby.” Dean chuckles and shuts the door.

Seth fights off a smile when he hears the water start running. He isn't sure where exactly he and Dean fall after all that's happened between them in the past week, but if things continue to go the way they have been, then he's okay with continuing to try to find his answer. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you all liked it!


End file.
